Ouch. There are some things that I do, that I just cant stop doing. Ten hour days starting at 5 am in the kitchen. Four in a row... and on the first day off, the moment I wake up, I'm baking something. Still aching from the previous marathon, but I just cant stop.
This weekend the habit that consumed my life? Well, this IS my garden blog after all. We realized we were late planting and POOF.... since Friday we've planted the blue corn, pole beans, lettuce carrots, radishes, swiss chard, onions, shallots, garlic, turnips, dill, parsnips, cucumbers, peppers, ground cherries, tomatoes, and potatoes along with a couple herbs and flowers. Since Friday. I finished the mud room tile grout job and the front yard stepping stones too. I'm aching and exhausted from hunching and bunching and spiderman crawling all over the place. I'm horrified at how much I planted, how I thought those would be a good idea at the time, and dreading all the watering and hose pulling this will require. And I SWORE I wasnt going to plant all those tomatoes! Only 2 of each I said! But nooooo.... I want to plant 17! My body and soul are crying for the largely unnessesary pain I've set myself up for.
So what is the first thing I do when I come inside and veg for 30 minutes? I go plant some scarlet runner beans in some now vacant pots. And then some herbs in some vacant peat plugs. And then some squash because those didnt turn out last year. And then...
Its slowly but surely killing me. Why must I plant so much? Is that feeling so hard to quell? The wonder at the magic each seed contains. The amazment that one plant... can multiply itself 50 times over with just water, dirt and sun. The fact that wonderful food can spring from the dirt. The sorrow I feel for each plant left to die. It only needs a spot on the ground. Or each I attempt to cull. Or each left neglected on the nursery shelf. The why not?
It will probably pass as I get more and more tired. As the sun gets hotter and my bordom at repitition moves me on to something else my obsession will fade. For a time. But for those monthes, its more than just a hobby. Its a life dominering obsession mimicing OCD for all its worth. My hands are covered in dirt again, and I'm sooo tired.